Lips of an angel
by Meaghs
Summary: A Brooke/Lucas season 7 fan fic based on the song Lips of an angel by Hinder. Please Read/Review.
1. Chapter 1

_Lips of an angel._

**I am excited to debut my second fanfic based on the song 'Lips of an Angel" by Hinder. I hope you all enjoy and I would LOVE to hear your thoughts . This takes place after season six of One Tree Hill but two years ahead instead of one. Side note: I could not bear to have Leytons child named Sawyer so she is called Anna like she should be. This starts as Leyton, Brulian and Naley but if you know me at all you know I will not stand to have the first two together.**

**And while you're at it check out my other fanfic.**

It's kinda hard to talk right now.

_Have you ever sat down and examined the parallels between what you wanted and what you have? Look at your reality - does it even slightly resemble your dreams? Is what was once your everything then even a significant or driving factor in your life now? _

_If you can answer yes, and not feel your heart thud in contention, then you, you are lucky._

One, two, three. "Fuck just open the damn door already Brooke," said the brunette aloud, although accidentally. Her brown eyes darted around quickly to make sure none of the staff was around to notice and she resumed her position leaning against the door.

"This is too hard," she said to herself; only this time, she managed to say it in her head, and thankfully so as the door opened up behind her sending her to the floor with a thud.

"Fucking hell Julian, what was that for?" she said, a tone of anger overpowering her normally calm voice.

"What? Am I supposed to knock when exiting a door too? Normally, people have better places to stand Brooke," he said, his voice too raising slightly.

A scoff was the only reply she had the energy for as she pushed herself off the floor examining the scratches that now covered her bare legs.

"I can't do this anymore Brooke," said Julian, his voice still sharp with anger.

"Can't do what Julian, open doors properly?" she countered, wiping the dust off her once smooth black skirt.

"No," he said lowering his voice and replacing the anger with disappointment, "I can't be at fault for every little thing that happens to you anymore. We've been here for a two years now and every day you seem to resent me more and more. I don't know if you're missing Tree Hill, Sam, Peyton or whatever, but you chose to come here with me."

"I am here with you."

"No, you're not. You've been off in your own little Brooke world for awhile now and you won't let me in no matter how hard I try," he blurted, throwing his hands up, "and I don't know how much longer I can miss you for Brooke. You're everything to me, everything. And I don't know, I guess _I need you to need me back._"

He walked past her, his steps determined to escape, but she, as always had to put up a fight, "Julian," was all she could manage, what with the dagger that unknowingly went through her heart..

"I'll be home for dinner," he said and slammed the front door behind him.

Her frustrated sigh echoed in the now empty halls and she pushed open the bedroom door, finding it noticeably easier this time.

Just another fight, she told herself plopping down face first in the bed. She shook her head almost immediately though and muttered, "so then why did his words hurt so much this time?"

It's my fault…

All my fault…

not built to be a girlfriend…

can't tell him…

Walls… his fault… regret…

Her mind was moving a thousand words a minute and even she could only decipher a few sporadic thoughts.

But they all settled as the tears brought exhaustion and all that was left was the hollowness that had become common place lately as she fell asleep to the sound of New York traffic drifting in through the open window.

A dream long ago lost to the cruelness of fate entered her mind. It consisted of a girl and a boy, so young, yet so bound together in love. The hurt in her eyes radiated it's way down to Brooke's sleeping heart causing a frown to form on her unconscious face as words circled around her.

_How about how you show it? I am not pushing you away, Lucas, I am holding on for dear life. But I need you to need me back. Okay, why didn't you tell me about the kiss? And why didn't you call me while you were away? And why won't you ever just let me all the way in? _

Brooke's breathing slowed momentarily as her dream ceased to allow words escaped her still sleeping lips, "what I wanted."

--- 3 ---

_Dr. Seuss once wrote, "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." That's all well and great but how are you supposed to know when the love you are in isn't true? Is it as easy as a simple reversal of the statement, or is it more complicated than that._

_After all, love itself isn't easy. So why should the search for it be? No one promised you that the wishes you long ago whispered to yourself would come true, but that doesn't stop us from expecting them to, now does it? _

Blindness washed over him and he groaned in discomfort, his hands automatically reaching down to splash water into his stinging eyes. A string of curse words exited his mouth as he rubbed his eyes attempting to get rid of the intruding soap but the forcefulness of his touch only worsened the problem.

Peyton's voice broke through the stream of water calling out his name, and as per usual, she didn't sound quite so patient. Shoving the water off he shouted, "what?" back whilst reaching for a towel.

"Just get out here. Now."

Wrapping the towel around himself he hurriedly rushed out to the living room filled with worry that something had happened to his angel, Anna.

In the year since she was born she had changed his world more than he ever could have thought possible. The sheer thrill of holding her asleep in his arms rivalled that of winning the State Championships. And it puzzled him each day, that even for a writer such as himself, that he could not for the life of him dream up the words to describe parenthood.

Not that he was getting much writing done nowadays…

Peyton's voice called out again and he rolled his eyes when he finally found her, sitting calmly on the couch.

"What's the big emergency?" Lucas asked crossing his arms over his bare stomach.

"I have to go out," she said, "And you need to watch Anna."

"And you couldn't of waited 5 more minutes until I was out of the shower?"

"No, Lucas, I couldn't," she said bitterly, walking over to the front door, "I said I'd meet a friend."

And with that she was out the door onto the quiet streets of Tree Hill without even a word on when she'd be home.

"What the fuck," Lucas muttered to himself as he walked the hallways heading in his bedroom to get changed. He threw on a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt and made his way over to the adjoining room where Anna was happily playing in her playpen.

"Hey sweet pea," he said his voice calm again, picking her up and holding her closely, "looks like its just me and you." As a response the baby only smiled and cuddled in closer to her daddy.

"Da hawse dada," the little girl said pointing to the house in the corner excitedly.

He swung her around to the sound of giggles and sat down on the ground plopping her down on his lap. Her little fingers reached forward and wrapped around her favourite doll.

"This Pellope daddy," she said giddily making the doll run around the dollhouse.

"Hi Penelope," he said waving at the doll, despite the fact that he had been told this on more than one occasion.

He sat there watching his daughter play happily in a world other than her own. It's funny how when you're a child the possibilities and chances seem endless, but who can blame them. At the end of all those fairytales we read them all end the same, with happily ever after.

"Take it from someone who knows, happily ever after is a lie," he thought as he instinctively reached out to touch the dollhouse's door which was painted a bright cherry red which stood out beautifully against the white house.

--- 3 ---

_Just take a look at the moment you are standing in, does it come close to where you thought your life was headed? Or have you become a pale imitation of the person you used to know, the person that you were meant to be? We all change, we all evolve, but what happens when you can't even remember your old self? _

_Dreams die, just don't die with them._

Haley James Scott was a lot of things, but a quitter was surely not one of them. Her fingertips were pruny and her once black pants were now grey from dust residue, but she was not giving up. She had to get this house perfect.

With a seven year old, perfect didn't come often and never lasted long so she never took the quiet of a sleepover somewhere else for granted, she cleaned. Not to mention she was upset, and when Haley was upset she either cleans or sings, right now she was trying to do both. Trying being the key word.

The house, usually alive with Jamie's spirit, was quiet. Too quiet, and that's what got to her.

She missed the screams as Jamie ran into Nathan's arms, the laughs as Nathan threw him onto the couch. But that was the old house, the house she knew. This house was an empty shell, only seemingly full do to the child inside.

Charlotte was nice, but it was in no way home. A year in this house had proven that to her more than anything. A year since they had decided that leaving Tree Hill would allow them to be together as a family more. Haley almost scoffed at that now, there were still the long road trips, the daily practices, the almost non-existent love life.

It had seemed so surreal at first, her husband in the NBA, she had been so proud. But one road trip at a time things gradually began to change. The Nathan she had known was gone replaced with either a silent Nathan or no Nathan at all.

Even the phone calls when he was on the road had changed, to begin with they were every day, sometimes twice a day. But now they were sporadic and sullen, either looking for comfort after a bad game or praise after a good one.

And Jamie, it has been so hard on him. The idolism he had always felt towards his father was slowly disappearing into loneliness and bitterness. He had never imagined that basketball would take the place of our family. But hey, neither had Haley.

She had thought having her husbands dream realized would be enough to sustain her. But what about her dreams? The ones she had long ago given up on in favour of love and of family. The two things she honestly cared for more than anything in the world.

But there was only so long she could be the only one fighting for her family. Only so long she could live in this house alone, living vicariously through Nathans life. Only so long.

_Just tell me, what do you do when you get all you ever wanted, and it isn't what you wanted it to be?_


	2. Honey why you crying?

Hey guys! Thank you so much for your reviews, they mean a lot!

I hope you enjoy this next instalment and I look forward to reading your thoughts.

Please let me know what you would like to see.

Chapter 2 - Honey why you crying?

_Have you ever had one of those moments that just refuse to leave your mind? Those horrible moments that your subconscious clings too despite constant pleas of mercy coming from your sanity._

_Those moments that seep into your every waking moment attempting to drag you down into the murky waters of depression and self pity._

_Those moments that become you._

A sudden whiff of whiskey filled her nostrils and her eyes fluttered open to the sound of Julian's snoring.

She tried to remember if she could place him coming home but she couldn't, she had been out cold. Looking over at the clock she noted that the time was 4:32, and judging by the clothing and shoes Julian still adorned he hadn't been home long.

His heavy leg was stretched over hers entrapping her to the bed.

Brooke tried to free herself for a moment but fell back on her pillow, her exhaustion winning over her will.

The pants he wore were itchy and she grimaced wondering how he ever got away with buying a synthetic fabric with her around.

Her pretty features were overpowered by a look of anguish as his hand swung over landing on her stomach slightly pulling up her shirt. His hand on her bare, smooth skin sending a tingle up her spine that was less than enjoyable.

She wanted to push him away but she lay paralyzed, succumbing to the invisible force holding her down, ignoring her cries for help, cries for an end. All that came in return was a distant voice telling her she deserved this, it was her fault.

Allowing her eyes to shift over to his sleeping body she gazed into the face she now feared the most.

Fear, she hated it. Hated being controlled by anything let alone an emotion.

Emotions are powerful, they can become you, taking over the day to day activities from your brain in exchange for it being numb to the world. Numb to the pain, and disaster that come along with emotion.

But those are the worst kind of days, the day's you are living on auto course; only smiling and speaking at the appropriate moments otherwise living only in spirit.

But you can never numb the pain can you? Even when you go to the dentist and they freeze your mouth before working you still feel it, still feel the jabs and pokes at your well being. And sooner or later the novocaine wears off and you're left with a throbbing pain that refuses to go away. Just like in life, delaying the pain is only delaying the inevitable.

The inevitable torture that comes along with life, because life sucks and then you die after all.

She just never thought she would have to live whilst dead.

She breathes in, the memories flow in.

She breaths out, they're still there.

She breaths in, she can't escape.

She breaths out, there is no use.

She's stuck, just like she is currently trapped beneath Julian she's trapped beneath the memories.

Trapped beneath the emotions.

"Fuck this endless circle," she thought, "I can't fucking do this anymore."

But it wasn't her decision, it was up to that subconscious and it's cruel reign.

She wasn't about to sit back and let it win though, that wasn't her style.

Armed with the determination to move on that she found every so often, which usually left her in a matter of minutes, she pushed Julian off of her. After making sure he was still deep in his alcohol induced slumber she crept out of bed and grabbed her phone from the dresser.

She could only think of one thing to do, one person to call, her instinct making the decision for her.

Walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her she held her breath as she dialled and let a helpless smile when she heard a voice on the other end.

"Hi," she said her voice brimmed with desperation.

---

_Have you ever noticed that the memories you expect to remember, the proms, graduations, weddings and child births, are never the ones that you hold on to. They are not the memories that you can recall on cue as real as if they were happening right now. _

_It's the first time your daughter says 'dada', the last embraces of true love, and most of all the moments that everything changed that you refuse to let go of._

The ticking of the clock served Lucas a constant reminder of how fast his life was passing by.

He could still taste the sweat from that first one on one game with Nathan, still taste the blood from his cheap shot that night. It seemed like it had happened yesterday, like all the confusion of the years since had been a dream. And yet it seemed like another lifetime ago, like it was a different person who won that night.

A completely different person.

Sometimes he wondered if he were too ask the boy he was back then what he thought of the man he was now, would he approve?

Most of the time he thought he would, solely on the reasoning that he did in fact marry Peyton Sawyer. But that Lucas had also thought he was in love with Peyton back then.

That's how he was regarding Peyton in those days; he ignored the bad simply because it was Peyton.

Peyton, she was his dream then. Like a lust ,never ending, that plagued at his heart winning every battle over reason, convincing him he knew he loved her, that he knew her.

But that Lucas knew nothing, and come to think of it, neither did this Lucas.

He was still sitting up waiting for her at 4:32am, still waiting for his long ago dream that was meant to come true already.

It was meant to be over, her and him forever. But lately it was him and Anna, not that he was really complaining, Anna showed him what love really is.

Love is supposed to be unconditional, no matter how many times you screw up you're supposed to be able to work through it, to get past it… or he would at least settle to talk about it.

Pushing everything under the rug only seems good at the time, after a while it seems like a lifetimes worth of problems were mounted on his back.

And it's only so long before a person collapses.

He just now noticed the incessant tapping of his foot in time with the ticking of the clock and realized just how insane he was going waiting. He had never been one to wait, and it felt like this stage of his life was coming way too soon. This wasn't supposed to happen for another 14 years when he will wait up for Anna to come home from a date.

But this was his wife. He was supposed to be worried senseless, not angry; he knew she was ok though, she was just out having her fun. So that left him with being angry.

He just didn't expect to be more angry at himself than he was at her.

A ring of the phone caused him to jump and officially ended his pity party.

He answered the phone a tone of bitterness in his voice, fully expecting it to be Peyton; who else would call at this hour?

"Hey."

---

_Do you know those moments where your future is shaped? Those moments where you make the all too crucial decisions that determine not only your priorities but your direction._

_Those moments that you can never leave behind._

His fingers trailed a line up her spine making her toes, and every other part of her body, come alive with feeling. The soft touch of his lips on her shoulder blades making her go completely numb wherever he kissed her.

She groaned as he wrapped his arms around her, his fingertips slightly tickling her exposed navel.

His breath on the back of her neck played like a song she knew by heart and she anticipated every beat, pausing to savour the tingle it sent straight to her heart.

She spun around, making she didn't leave the home she called his arms, and let her lips dangle a few inches from his. She could taste his tongue already, as it was a flavour she knew all too well, a flavour that would never leave her.

Grabbing his hands in hers she held both against her chest as she moved in to kiss him, crushing her lips onto his, making sure for once, she was in control.

He obliged to her every command, happily letting her lips and tongue explore the mouth she knew as if for the first time. All the while holding his hands close to her chest, letting him take in every beat of her heart.

She bit his bottom lip before forcing herself to pull away slightly and slowly breathing out, "I've missed you."

Her lips went to land back on his anticipating the wet feel of them all over again, but instead she was taken aback when he suddenly pulled away. His eyes suddenly melting from euphoria to despair.

"Nathan?" she asked tentatively, wanting and answer and not wanting one at the same time. Fearing that he would say he didn't miss her… that he didn't want her anymore.

He just sighed in reply and she automatically pulled the covers over her wanting to hide not only from Nathan but from the embarrassment she was overcome by.

"You try having a child and see how attractive you still look," she spat at him in an attempt to disguise the feelings of hurt slowly replacing the love she had felt just moments ago.

"God, Haley, it's not that," he said his hands encasing his face, "it's not that."

"Than what is it Nathan? Why don't you want to be with me anymore?"

"I know you can never be happy with me."

"What makes you say that?" I asked shocked by his confession.

"Because you're not who you once were anymore…"

Her lips went to protest but the words weren't coming out, they were stuck beneath the layers of confusion and heart break. She closed my eyes to try to stop the oncoming tears and when she opened them Nathan was gone. The space he had occupied only seconds beforehand now just a wrinkled spot in the bed spread.

She felt her hands groping at the now empty bed as if trying to pull him out of thin air, her every fibre willing him to appear. But he didn't, instead she heard a distant voice calling for her.

She didn't know who it was, all she knew is she wanted them to go away h, to leave her alone like everyone else had, and she called out so much to the intruder.

But the calls kept coming, and they only grew louder.

---

Haley's eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice, her heart still beating with an uncontrollable wildness. Pulling back the sheets she took in just how sweaty her clothes were as they clung to her skin.

Pushing back thoughts of her dream she pulled herself towards the voice that was searching for her blind to her surroundings.

Walking into the living room she gaped as smiled in greeting, "Hi."

_What happens when dreams end, and you're left only with bitter memories?_


	3. Is everything okay?

Thank you for the reviews! I appreciate and love them all. This one is a little bit shorter but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless.

And someone posed the question of time zones in one of the reviews; I did not think of that problem at first but upon investigation, luckily for me, North Carolina and New York are in the same time zones.

Please let me know what you think and what you would like to see.

Oh, and this will most likely be the last update before school starts for me so updates will take a little more time.

Chapter 3 - Is everything okay?

_Webster's classifies hope as a "desire accompanied by expectation," there's a town in British Columbia, Canada called Hope, and a man who went by Bob Hope; but what does the word mean to you?_

_Hope means everything, and sometimes it can be found with the smallest of actions, in the most unexpected of voices._

"Hey," he barked into the phone, his voice with a looming sense of urgency.

"Hi…" Brooke stammered suddenly cluing into the lateness of the hour, "I'm uh… I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Brooke?" he asked the anger melting from his voice at the realization of the caller.

"It's me," she said, seemingly not picking up on the change of tone, "look, I'm sorry to be calling this late but I just needed to talk to somebody. I know this seems out of no where, we haven't even spoken in months; but I kind of just called you on instinct."

"What's wrong?" he asked his heart aching at her tone of desperation; she sounded so broken.

"Everything," she said simply, her voice cracking slightly.

"Brooke," he pushed, suddenly forgetting his own worries that had been keeping him up and succumbing himself fully into hers.

And the wall she had built up around that night fell loudly bringing with it tears and words she had long been hiding unsuccessfully from. She told him everything, not bothering to censor out the uncomfortable details as she was unable to even hear herself as she spoke.

He listened intently, his heart and breath dropping with every painful truth she confessed into his ear not wanting to hear what hurt him almost as much as her but still unable to stop listening to the voice that had always captivated him so

His hands wanted so badly to just move through the phone and just hold her, to comfort her, to rid her voice of the sound of despair that echoed within it as she continued with her confessions without even stopping for a breath.

With each word though a patch was growing over her heart that had so long been in need of mending as if saying it out loud relinquished it's control of her. Thus bringing back a part of her that she thought had been stolen that morning.

She was in no way back to normal, she didn't even know if she ever would be, but talking to him, and admitting these things brought back the fighting spirit that had always loomed within her.

That spirit inside her that forced her to say, 'I will survive.' No matter how painful or how hopeless the world seemed to her she had to remember that this was due to the vastness of it. Somewhere in the world hid the hope that she had so long been searching for, and it just so happened that this time hope lived where it always had at home in Tree Hill.

Her words seemed to stop coming as quickly as they has come like she had exhausted her supply of them, the entire contents of a part of her heart spilled out. Maybe even making sure she didn't open another floodgate of feelings, feelings that unlike the ones she just shared, were better off hidden deep under piles of regret.

"Wow," was all he could weakly manage when it was finally his turn too speak, "I'm sorry Brooke."

"It's not your fault," she muttered back, "listen though, I'm going to try to go back to sleep, thank you for everything Lucas and I'm sorry again for waking you."

To which Lucas started to say "You didn't wake me," but the line had already gone dead.

Standing up he led himself to his room, feeling the sudden need to lie down.

---

_All I know, is that when hope is gone; there's not much left. As there is nothing to protect you from the constant waves of grief that come inevitably with life._

"What are you doing here?" Haley gaped at the tall, and undoubtedly gorgeous man that standing in her living room and holding a photograph of she and Brooke in his hands eyeing it with a smile.

"Your friends hot," he said ignoring her question with a wink, "just like you."

She rolled her eyes at his bluntness and crossed her arms over her chest, "what are you doing here?" she repeated.

"I had to pay my favourite Scott a little visit," he smirked putting the photograph onto the table face down.

"Why," she groaned impatiently, plopping herself down on the loveseat and grabbing a sweater that was lying nearby to calm the chills that were suddenly popping up along her spine.

"I have to ask you a slight favour," he said clasping his hands together, "well… it seems slight, miniscule even, to me but to you it might not."

She narrowed her eyes slightly at this glaring at him to continue with his request.

"I need you to keep your distance from our boy Nathan," he said his eyes remaining fixated on her face the entire time not allowing themselves to blink once.

She opened her mouth to retort but her vocal chords seemed to be overpowered by shock and anger so he took that as his cue to continue.

"You see, all these 'lovers spats' you've been having over the phone has really been screwing with his concentration… and we can't have that, now can we?"

"Nathan is my husband," Haley sputtered lamely clenching her fists.

"Yes, but this is the NBA we are talking about," he replied calmly staring her down, "do you want to be the one at fault when his one shot, his dream, gets ruined?"

She shook her head slightly his words reconfirming the fears that she had been avoiding for so long. "but, I love him."

"Then let him make the most of his dream, Haley."

"But…"

"What is there to protest Haley?" he asked making his way towards the front door, "he gets his dream, and you can have yours too. You know, that singing career you long ago abandoned… for Nathan."

And with those stinging words he left her in a cloud of long lost but not forgotten dreams.

---

_Could hope be worthless to some people? At what point does evil overpower it… or does it triumph over even the most cruel of evils?_

The strong, night winds gnawed their way to her skin even through multiple layers of clothing she had put on in a feeble attempt for protection. But was it really the cold air she was hiding from or was it the guilt that was always constantly surrounding her nowadays?

She shook her head at the thought and forced a smile upon her lips as she pushed her way through the wind towards her waiting car jingling her keys giddily in her hands as she walked.

Before she could finish her walk down the long, winding driveway however; her cell phone piped up blaring Rihanna's 'Unfaithful' as it's signal to be picked up.

'Lucas,' she thought bitterly and was proved right when she fumbled the phone out of her pocket. Instead of picking up though she slammed her thumb down on the ignore button.

Better not to speak to him right now, you can hide lies better when it's not face to face.

"_Spent the night at Haley's. Be home soon - P," _she texted him before shoving her phone back into her pocket and letting herself into the car.

Starting the ignition she drove off quickly ignoring the male hand waving her off from the front porch.

_Hope… what does it mean to you?_


	4. I've gotta whisper

I know it's been forever and I'm so sorry; I've just been super busy with school. I hope this was worth the wait and I will try to do better. Thanks to all of those who reviewed and favorited, it really means a lot to me. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and if there is anything you'd like to see in the future.

I've got to Whisper

--B--

_Denial is a deadly game. Innocent at first, or seemingly so, but you can always count on it to evolve. It evolves into a lie so downright convincing that you find yourself believing it. And isn't that the most dangerous kind of denial? The kind that keeps you inside of a world that is so far from reality. For you can only deny the obvious truth in your heart for so long before it escapes_

Bangs and Crashes were floating in through the open bedroom door alerting Brooke to the arrival of morning. Her eyes opened slowly, trying to ease themselves into the sunlight that washed over her and they darted to the mahogany beside table on her left, searching for the time.

11:17

She had not slept so well, so peacefully, since… well, for a long time anyways.

Closing her eyes again she adjusted her head on the pillow preferring the extra resting time to checking her IPhone and finding numerous angry, and maybe a little bit worried, messages from her mother. It's her damn company though, and if she wants to sleep in she's sure as hell sleeping in.

Pulling the blanket up to her ears she let out a breath, pausing in the calmness of her mind. Her thoughts drifting slowly through, one by one, unlike the chaotic confusion that usually took place. She had never been a morning person, and this sentiment had only increased lately due to images of the previous nights nightmares plaguing morning's first thoughts.

But this morning these thoughts and images were noticeably absent, the remainder of the night's dreams had been proven to be surprisingly sweet. The only problem being she could not remember what it was that had made it so sweet. It always amused her how it was the bad dreams, the less than enjoyable ones, which she could not forget a moment of while the beautiful dreams were as fleeting as the memories of that nature.

But maybe it is because the horrible dreams and memories are less painful to let go of.

Her musings were disrupted by more clattering escaping from the kitchen followed by the gruff sound of Julian's voice barking into what she could only assume was his phone. She heard her name amongst other inaudible ramblings and strained her ears to try and determine the nature of the conversation. Judging from the sound of his voice, it wasn't a good one.

Silently, she debated whether to hide out in the safety of her bed covers or to run to her boyfriend's side. And admittedly, the former was winning considerably when she heard his footsteps grow louder and less distant as her choice became complacent.

"Yes, father," said Julian lazily into the phone as he balanced the phone against his shoulder, his hands currently occupied with plain toast and a glass of orange juice (his practically patented hangover cure.) She had considered feigning sleep but the lump in her throat slowed her instincts and he hesitantly stared into her eyes upon noticing them to be open.

The world seemed more real now that she was in his presence, less avoidable; she sat up slightly, adjusting the pillows beneath her back as she listened to his words of goodbye hastily spoken into the phone and braced herself for words directed at her.

She didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere in this year and a half she had become afraid to talk to him, to have her words analyzed in an effort to find an explanation for her more than strange behavior lately; an explanation which she herself did not fully understand.

The phone clicked, seeming loud in the silence, and she pulled the blankets in closer around her. She watched him intently, profiling him, expecting a man free of worries and the memory of last night's fight.

Fight. She hated when words had two definitions, both variations completely different not only in description but in feeling. Especially when one she thrived on; fighting for her life, fighting for love. The other though, the vocal kind, destroyed her. Lately, exhaustion from so much of the latter made it difficult for her to do any of the first kind.

She was just tired; of the fights, the lies and mostly just tired of the world's constant urge to pull her down. Which is why she gave him a half-hearted smile and tried to relax her stance slightly, it was not a n act of forgiveness, but one of desperation.

Julian though, mistook her change in demeanor as an attempt to make up his face lighting up immediately; despite his being sorely mistaken she didn't have the energy to dispute him, for that which she had gained from sleeping in had left her.

"Morning baby," he said, giving her one of his crooked grins. He looked so damn innocent, like a child begging for acceptance, and she widened her slight smile in order to relieve herself from the guilt he was causing her to feel; after all, he hadn't really done anything.

"Morning," she replied, putting on an overly chipper tone to disguise a still present tone of discontent.

"I didn't know you were awake," said Julian obviously attempting his own façade of the doting boyfriend, "so I only made breakfast for myself, would you like me to make you some?"

"Nah," said Brooke while propping herself into a seated position, "I better take a shower. I have to get into the office soon; Mother's bound to be freaking out."

"You just wanted the morning off?" he asked reaching out his hand to help her up. She ignored it though pushing herself up and off the bed on her own accord.

"More like needed it," she replied plainly before giving him the obligatory kiss and attempting not to gag at the still present taste of whiskey mixed with morning breath. She shuffled towards the bathroom door grabbing something off of the dresser and putting it into her pocket along the way. But before closing it she turned back towards her watching boyfriend and said, "I'll see you tonight for dinner, love you," before closing the door, not bothering to wait for an answer.

Sitting down onto the cold floor she pulled the notebook and pen she had grabbed out of her pocket. Lately, she had returned to her long abandoned habit of writing letters to let out the feelings that she was to afraid to share. And as she let the words pour out of her heart and onto the paper she felt slightly better. Now though, she realized that what made her feel better than anything else was what she had sought comfort in last night on this very same bathroom floor.

--L--

_Sometimes denial is completely for your own benefit, driven by selfishness and the fear of facing bitter and evil truth. But occasionally, you deny the truths of your heart in order to protect somebody that you love. For if you love somebody enough, the pain of living a lie seems easy in comparison to hurting that somebody that you would give up anything for._

Lucas watched as macaroni sauce dribbled down Anna's chin and he could not contain his smile at her being still so happy despite the imperfection. He missed those days, the ones that he was simply happy just for the fact of being alive, the ones before adulthood and worries of an importance greater than basketball.

She was so tiny, absolutely brimming with a sense of innocence for the world had not yet jaded her. She had not faced the pain of heartache or losing the one that you love. She had not yet been forced to move on without someone that she needed more than anything else, and that was an experience he hoped she would never have to live through. If only for selfish reasons though, he could barely stand seeing his girl with a scraped knee; he did not know if he would ever be able to handle her with a broken heart.

For now though, the only thing that mattered to her was the macaroni in her Spongebob bowl and making sure that her Daddy was never more than five feet from her. And truthfully, he didn't like it when that happened either; he preferred the light that came with being around her to almost anything else. And last night had provided him with the desire to protect her from the world.

He heard a crash and he looked down at his daughter on instinct to make sure she was alright. But Anna was happily eating, the noise coming from the door to his bedroom. So he took a deep breath and exhaled, bracing his heavy heart for a fight.

"Good morning," said Lucas, his tone bitter and slightly condescending, "how did you sleep?"

They had not spoken last night, she did not wander in until slightly after 6 am and though he was still awake he did not have the energy, or was it the desire, to speak. So he feigned a restful sleep as she crawled into the bed beside him. And when Anna woke up an hour later, he was up with her leaving Peyton to sleep alone until 12:00.

She muttered what he could only assume was a hello and walked straight to the coffee machine grabbing the 'world's best friend' mug Brooke had given to her in junior year along the way. Lucas rolled his eyes and returned his attention to where it was deserved focusing on his daughter as she scooped another spoonful into her mouth.

The coffee seemed to awaken her need for attention a few minutes later however; as she smiled and said, "I missed you last night."

"Me?" asked Lucas ignoring her attempt at seduction, "or your daughter?"

"Both," she said biting her lip slightly and as she did so he noticed a slightly bruised quality to them but he didn't inquire about it instead letting her finish, "Why do you find it so hard to believe that?"

"I don't want to do this right now," he said shifting his glance to Anna, pleading with her mother to catch on. He was not going to do this in front of his baby. She rarely ever spent any time with her mother, her mother just could not be bothered, and he was not going to let the few moments that they did spend together be plagued by fights. He more than anyone knew what it was like to grow up with a parent who could not be bothered.

Peyton nodded, sitting down at the kitchen table across from him and placing her coffee cup onto the table as she reached for the newspaper. He eyed the cup curiously, remembering the first time he had seen it the week that Peyton was moving in. At the time he couldn't help but notice the light in her eyes as she described to him Brooke buying it for her at a small store during their 'Ho's over bros, again' weekend.

At the time he didn't know why, he wasn't even sure if he had realized he had the feeling back then, but the cup and the meaning behind it had always bothered him. The circumstances leading up to that weekend had in no way deemed Peyton worthy of that title; calling her the world's best friend at that point seemed as ridiculous as calling Heidi Montag the world's best singer. But he certainly had no place judging her on that situation, not when the situation was largely his fault.

What bothered him more though was the fact that she still broadcasted the sentiment as if it were true. Now knowing what he knew about what Brooke was going through, wouldn't a best friend be there through that? Wouldn't a best friend _know_ about that?

He couldn't imagine going through a week without speaking to Haley, sure they've grown up and it was never be the same as it was all of those years ago when they played mini golf atop of his mom's café, but he was a firm believer in the fact that best friend should be more than a label.

Or a coffee cup in this case.

"Hey, have you spoken to Brooke lately?" he asked her, trying to seem as natural as possible but his straight face was blown when he saw Anna's face brighten slightly when Brooke's name was mentioned.

"No," Peyton said nonchalantly flipping a page, "not since she came down for Anna's birthday."

So that would be a month ago, after _it_ had already happened to Brooke, and she had not even noticed. But then again, neither had he; he hated the thought that he hadn't been there, hadn't even known, more than he ever thought he would, and probably much more than he should considering he was supposed to be happily married.

He fell into silence again, preferring not to question her as to why as it would only lead to a rising amount of anger that shouldn't even be there in the first place.

Apparently Peyton had questions of her own though as she prodded, "why do you ask?"

"Why do I ask what?" he replied despite knowing what she was referring to.

"Why do you ask about Brooke?" she asked a tone of confusion in her voice.

Why did he ask? He couldn't think of a way to answer that question without angering his wife. He couldn't say he was only worried about her, even if it was only as a friend, for that would mean betraying Brooke's trust. And that he was sure was something he could never do.

"Luke, why did you ask?" she asked again, looking up from the newspaper finally, her eyes searching out his. He had to answer something, he knew that much, but nothing was coming out. Luckily, his cell phone vibrates in his pocket providing him with a reason to excuse himself from the table without answering her question.

"Hello?" he said into the phone already feeling grateful to whoever it was.

"Hey Luke," said Lindsay's voice, "I was told you called earlier about the meeting this weekend?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly, "I was wondering if you needed me out there for it?"

"I thought I told you," she said sounding distracted, "it's only a budgeting meeting that isn't worth your time to fly out for. I can fax you the numbers when it's done so that you have a copy if you'd like."

The days had certainly passed when their phone calls had lasted for hours. He no longer knew the girl that he was once in love with, they no longer communicated in that way, as equals. Now, their relationship stayed strictly within the barriers of editor and client.

Some days, they could both feel the tenseness in conversation though when neither knew if they should inquire about the others life. But neither ever asked. Maybe it was the uncomforting feeling that came with learning of your ex fiancés new spouses wellbeing. He certainly did not find the thought of hearing that her new boyfriend made her happier than she had ever been particularly appealing. It's not that he still loved her – in fact he knew he didn't – it's just those leftover pangs that never really go away.

"No that's fine," he said quickly into the phone, "thanks, Lindsey."

He heard the phone click and carefully slid it into his pocket so as not to disturb the sheet of paper that was resting there. Leaning back against the wall he sighed, his legitimate excuse was gone. He had thought he was brilliant this morning when he thought of it, it was just so perfect. But considering the reason for the plan, he wasn't completely surprised it didn't work out.

Making his way into the kitchen he made up his mind on what he was going to do, he didn't have any other choice.

"Hey Peyt," he said to the blonde still sipping at her coffee looking like she was about to fall asleep, "Lindsay needs me in New York for a few days, some kind of meeting with the publishers."

Peyton made no effort to hide her disdain, the only thing unclear to him was whether she was upset over the fact that he was leaving or being left alone with her daughter, "when will you be leaving?"

"Later on tonight," he said quietly leaning down to kiss her on the cheek, "but I'm going to get this little one washed up before I have to start packing. I love you, okay?" She merely nodded in reply, clearly liking playing the role of annoyed housewife.

"Sorry Peyton," he said as he scooped up his daughter and left the room.

Minutes later when he sat Anna on the bathroom counter and held a cloth underneath the hot water he looked into her innocent almond eyes and felt compelled to give her an explanation.

"Sweetie, I know you hate it when Daddy goes away," he said, knows she wouldn't understand much of what he said, as he wiped the spaghetti sauce off of her fact, "and Daddy loves you very much but he also has another friend who he loves. And this friend needs his help."

He paused to pull the old, worn sheet of paper out of his pocket. "See, she wrote me this when I was going through a hard time. And if it wasn't for her words and her love, I probably wouldn't have survived it. So it's only fair to return the favor right, baby girl? She needs me, and I need to be there to help her. But I love you, and I love your Mommy and I will be home soon."

--N--

_There's times when your entire world is in a complete contradiction to the person who you used to be, who you were supposed to be. Every word and every action being in absolute denial to the character you had spent so many years building up for yourself. Sometimes you deny the person that you used to be in hopes of forgetting the circumstances that made that person change._

Did he ever think he'd make it here?

He'd heard and answered this question so many times since his introduction as the Bobcat's starting point guard a year and a half ago. And without fail, he always offered up varied versions of the same simple answer. Yes, always. Were there dark days when he doubted this? Sure. He had lost use of his legs after all, but he had never given up the dream that he had carried with him since he was a toddler.

That was the premise his agent had come up with to turn him into a truly admirable sports hero. The Michael Jordan kind of player that would have kids running up to their mothers spewing "I want to be Nathan Scott, Mommy." Promote the idea of never giving up on your dream; no matter how many times life pushes you to a point that nobody would blame you for abandoning it. And every time somebody tells you that it's impossible, always reply by simply saying that it's improbable rather than impossible. People beat the odds every day, and he was a firm believer that it was hard work and not luck that let that happen.

And then there was the truly bankable part; the portrayal of the perfect family and the story of unbreakable love that used to be Haley's and his. The nerdy girl who met the undeniably popular jock and ended up with a marriage certificate and a baby (in that much more romantic order) by the time she graduated high school.

It was all part of the plan to make him relevant to more demographics than just the males who watched his games. He had the being admired for his skill part covered; he had been training for that his entire life. But his agent seemed set on throwing out life stories that made him into a man that children could look up to, with a story that they could use as fuel for their own dreams. As well as giving women out there something to swoon about, a story that proved that he had always put his family and love over the game of basketball.

_Or used to anyways._

There it was, men, women and children; they had it all covered. And Nathan could not help but be impressed with the marketing plan that Clay had faxed to him. It certainly would help garner him more attention.

But the factor of airing the past, particularly his and Haley's, to gain a profit somehow bothered him.

"I don't know Clay," he said into his cell phone, "I mean it's great. But, does the public really need to know all about my personal life?"

"Sure," said Clay his voice sharp, "they all know you're a great basketball player, you've proven that. But don't you think it's time that they see you're a great guy too? They see Haley at all of these events and games; don't you think your fans would like to know your guys' story? Girls love that kind of thing; they eat up stories that let them believe that love really does come from the most unexpected of sources. That love can happen to anybody at any age."

"I don't know if Haley will appreciate me letting everybody in on every single detail of our history," said Nathan before sighing into the phone.

"Are you really worrying about what she thinks, Nate? Remember what she did."

Honestly, he could never forget it. It flashed into his thoughts during the most tedious of moments, moments of severe happiness, and moments of darkness and even when he was supposed to be playing. More than a few times he had given the ball away or missed a three pointer due to memories of the pain of that day stabbing suddenly into his thoughts.

But did he want to hurt her for it? No, not really. He loved her too much to ever consider hurting her on purpose. Even if he wanted to though, hurting her would mean hurting Jamie and that was something that he absolutely flat out refused to do. That little boy was the only living thing that he truly believed in within this world right now. He was the only person that would never hurt him.

Clay proposed projecting the perfect marriage though, how could he do that when his marriage was in reality falling to shambles. Could he deny that to the public; make them believe in a lie that was so outlandishly far from the truth? Could he do that to himself; relive what used to be and what should still be on a constant and daily basis? Could he even do it to Haley; ask her to pretend she was still invested in this marriage?

_Would she comply even if he asked?_

"I have to talk to her Clay," Nathan said before hanging up, "I'll get back to you later today."

He fell down onto his hotel bed and sighed, this was not going to be a pleasant conversation.


End file.
